Problem at sea
by jewel.of.the.ocean
Summary: Begins near the end of AWE, Elizabeth's father is dead, Will is now captain of the Flying Dutchman, and Elizabeth remains on the Pearl, with Jack, but for how long? Okay, I'm not too good at summaries, but this is my first time! Chapter 5! I know, quick
1. Chapter 1

"Well go on! get back to yer stations!" Gibbs' voice rang out, after receiving orders from the captain himself. The crew ran instantly to their duties; the rigging needed hauling, the anchor needed heaving, and the mast's yearning for freedom was only matched in intensity by that of a certain young crew member, who at this moment was gazing out across the ocean, from the comfort of the ship's starboard railings.

"Elizabeth," a soft voice called in almost a whisper. The dazed young woman half turned her head, but could not attempt further movement; her body was drained of the usual vivacity which so consumed her.

"Mmm?" she mumbled, grudgingly giving part of her attention to the speaker.

"The Cap'n wishes to see you in his cabin," the voice called again, though this time, its impact on Elizabeth was somewhat greater. She stood straight, and turned fully to face the speaker. It was Gibbs. He wore a gentle expression on his face, reminding Elizabeth ever so slightly of her father. This memory caused her to ache, from the pit of her stomach, through to every limb in her body. Quickly she retained her tears and jerked her head back again towards the sea.

"Well you can tell _Jack_," she snapped, "that contrary to what he believes, not _every_ problem can be solved by finding the bottom of a rum bottle." He had expected the girl to decline the captain's request, but this statement confused him.

"Problem, miss Elizabeth?" Gibbs asked. She glanced at him sourly.

"Surely you've been acquainted with Jack's "_tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature_" by now?" she smirked sarcastically, then her manner changed so suddenly, as if she had stumbled upon an inappropriate memory. It was brief, but Gibbs thought he saw a faint blush colour the girl's cheeks. Suddenly, Gibbs' own expression changed; his eyes widened in an attempt to catch Elizabeth's gaze, though she was still staring out to sea.

"And you can also tell him," Gibbs cleared his throat, but the determined girl paid no attention, "that if he so wishes to know what is troubling me," at this point she faced Gibbs, glaring at him as if he were Jack. The look Gibbs was giving Elizabeth clearly signalled danger, yet still, the girl ignored it. "He can _persuade_ me to visit the cabin himself…"

"Actually… my dear Lizzy," Jack interrupted from close behind her. The colour on her cheeks returned, although this time undeniably, "I was simply trying to coax your flattering self away from the railings; Gibbs and Cotton are about give it a shiny new coat of varnish you see, and I'm afraid you have located yourself right in their way." The duration of his ramble allowed Elizabeth to adjust to the shock. She glanced briefly at Gibbs in annoyance. He responded simply with a "I tried to warn you," look.

"But, now that you mention it…" Jack smiled coyly, though upon Elizabeth's reaction, wiped the grin from his face. He stared expectantly at Gibbs, whose eyes were wandering in every direction aside from the captain's and the lady's. Once he had eventually caught Jack's expression, his understanding was immediate.

"I'd best be finding Cotton, hadn't I?" he murmured, and stalked off as if it had been his own choice in the first place. Elizabeth's eyes followed him until he was out of sight, at which point the captain broke the silence.

"Now, seeing as you've succeeded in distracting my crewmen away from their duties, what else be on your agenda?" The lady glared at Jack, whose smiling self was only too prepared for this gesture.

"Can't keep your eyes off me, can you?" he grinned. She sighed.

Turning her back on the sea, Elizabeth leant onto the railing and vacantly looked out past Jack. He stepped into her line of vision, with a quizzical stare on his face. Her eyes met his; the connection lasted long enough for each to realise that neither would break their gaze first.

"My dearest Lizzy, I do believe something has you vexed."

Another sigh escaped Elizabeth, although this time involuntarily.

"What do you want Jack?" she asked. Her manner at that point was so riddled with the exhaustion of someone troubled with unanswered questions, that not even Jack could ignore it. Instead of focusing on her eyes, he allowed himself the pleasure of studying her entire image; a concept he soon found less pleasurable than he had once thought. Her skin and lips had become pallid, her expression tired, and though on first glance her face still held its beauty, the glow of energy he admired most about her was reduced to merely a flicker. This image made his heart ache, and he forced his eyes away.

"I want you to tell me what's troubling you."

"Why?" she asked. He looked at her again, certain that he would detect a tone of humour from her face, but she remained serious. Also cynical, somehow.

"Well…" he began, and then cursed inside after realising he could not put words to his reason. His mental falter was carefully hidden by his ability to feign confidence. "The way I see it is, if it's bad luck to sail with a woman on board a ship, it must be worse still if said woman shares the temper of the seas during the midst of a storm."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Jack took a step closer towards her; though she did not seem to notice, or at least, it seemed that way to Jack, as she hadn't stepped away from him.

"There is nothing left for me now," she mumbled almost inaudibly. Jack blinked, hoping he had not heard her correctly, though the despair in her features confirmed what she'd said. She matched Jack's stare when she realised she had spoken her thoughts aloud, and desperately searched for words to counteract it, but her mind had gone blank. She blushed and turned away from him, clutching onto the ship's railing. This position brought back a faint memory of a more pleasant time, when she had been standing in the same location, thinking thoughts about the same man who had caused her to blush, on both occasions. Suddenly, Jack did something quite unexpected. So unexpected, in fact, that it caused the few prying crew members, who had been watching the exchange while on their way to the bow of the ship, to stop in their tracks. He cleared his throat, and after a slight hesitation, reached for Elizabeth's arm, softly pulling her around to face him. He stood closer to her; so close that not even a breeze could pass between their bodies, their faces nose to nose.

"There's always going to be something," he whispered, "you'll always have the ocean, you'll always have… the pearl," his eyes twinkled. It seemed to Elizabeth as though he had more to say, but instead he closed his mouth, and, after hovering for a moment by hers, he stepped backwards.

"I'll always have the pearl?" she echoed in question, after a long silence. He smiled as she scanned over his pride and glory. His smile widened as he saw its reflection in Elizabeth's face. He nodded.

"Assuming you don't lose possession of it again, of course?" she smirked, glancing at Barbossa, who was at that moment engrossed in a game of dice, far away at the bow of the ship. He was barely distinguishable from the rest of the crew, who also seemed to be gathered around the players, and every so often their cheers and sneers could be heard, faintly. For the first time, Elizabeth felt truly aware that she and Jack were alone, together, undisturbed. It appeared to her that he must have shared the same thoughts, because the grin he was aiming at her was positively devilish.

"If I remember correctly, love, the last time I lost possession of the pearl, it was by your hands," Jack beamed. Elizabeth scoffed and turned away from him.

"Well if _I_ remember correctly, _Jack_, the plan to abandon ship was decided upon long before I…" she stopped, unsure how best to carry on.

"Kissed me passionately and chained me to the mast, inevitably sending me to a cruel and most merciless death?" He finished for her. A sarcastic stare was her reply.

"Land ahoy!" Gibbs' voice boomed around the ship.

Jack and Elizabeth snapped their heads towards the crew in disbelief. Jack's attention remained on his men, who were scrambling their way towards him, to stand ready and await orders. Elizabeth, however, quickly searched the waters for sight of their destination. Upon finding it, she found herself fingering the compass on her belt, while the realisation of their position caused her stomach to churn in agony. This was shortly followed by a wave of guilt, though for what or whom, she knew not. The duty fell to Gibbs to confirm what all on board were already certain of.

"Port Royal, Cap'n."

Jack began to laugh quietly, in mockery of himself. His crew exchanged glances with one another, then looked back at him in confusion. Some smiled with Jack, for lack of better ideas. All eyes were on him, aside from the pair belonging to miss Swan. Hers, full of secret sorrow, were cast down, avoiding Jack's at all costs. When the laughter ended, he turned to face the girl, and grasped the mast's main line, holding it as if for support.

"You lead us to Port Royal?" He said to her. On the surface, it was merely a question, but not even the calmness in his face could mask the accusation in his voice, or the hurt in his eyes. She lifted her head and stiffened her jaw, yet she could not find her words, nor the strength to meet his stare.

"Cap'n, the orders?" Gibbs interrupted desperately, sensing he should make the captain and the lady aware of the crew's watchful presence. Jack gave no sign of acknowledgement, instead remained focused on Elizabeth, who appeared as if she had finally decided on speaking.

"It would never have worked between us," she breathed, briefly flicking her eyes over Jack's face. He grinned, weakly. This was goodbye.

"Keep telling yourself that darling," he scorned, "maybe some day you'll believe it."


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth paced the deck of the Pearl redundantly, while the crew prepared for docking at Port Royal. She knew Jack was watching her, from the helm of the ship; she could feel his stare. He appeared to be tracing the distant ocean, but the distinction between the line of Elizabeth's shape and the line of the horizon became hazy, when seen through his eyes. Though aware of his watch, she could not resist running her fingers along the railing of the ship, while taking in a large, healthy breath of the salty, sea air. This action, she was surprised to realise, lacked the sorrow she expected to feel.

"Cap'n," Gibbs broke Jack's reverie, as gently as he could muster. Jack smiled in acknowledgment, but his eyes remained on his horizon.

"The anchor's been dropped, Jack," Gibbs spoke again, with a stronger tone. On hearing his name, Jack turned, with the smile still on his face. He nodded briefly, and turned back. Gibbs hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether or not to persist in his attempt to move him.

"Shall we… shall we de-port Cap'n?" No sooner had Jack opened his mouth to answer, that it closed once more. Upon watching the waves and the lady bidding farewell to his home, his mind was briefly lost again, to the world. It was strange, he thought, her touch caressed the ship's body, her eyes seemed to capture every hole, ridge, and crevice aged into it's wood, though one significant feature was absent from her goodbye. When he realised what it was, the accompanying pain caused Jack to turn his back on her; the emotion Elizabeth fell short of, was regret. He finally answered Gibbs.

"I want you to make sure Miss Swann arrives at her home safely."

Gibbs shook his head quickly,

"Jack…" he began, but was not permitted to finish.

"You can tell the crew," the captain continued, "to stretch their legs, and enjoy Port Royal while they can."

Gibbs's face contorted in confusion.

"While they can?" he asked, suddenly. Jack looked directly at his first mate, employing a sentiment similar to the one with which he had spoken to Elizabeth.

"We won't be sailing back here again."

The first pirate to set foot onto Port Royal, was Barbossa. He walked to a section of the pier where a panoramic view of the harbour town was available for him. A sinful smile found its way onto his face, once he had glimpsed certain buildings which were still in ruin, from his previous visit.

"It's changed since the last time, has it not?" he asked over his shoulder, expecting to be answered by the second pirate whom he heard step onto land. When no voice was sounded, he turned to face the crew member. It was Elizabeth. She took no notice of Barbossa's presence; walking past him, she gazed at the unfamiliar scene before her eyes.

Aside from the pier, and the old Inn which she could see in the distance, not one recognizable image met her stare.

"Come, miss Elizabeth," Gibbs walked to her as soon as he had left the ship. He gently placed his hand onto her shoulder, "would ya permit an ol' friend to escort ya back home?" Elizabeth smiled in reply, secretly clutching Jacks compass.

"Not so fast there!" a young man spoke in a comically high pitched voice. He approached the pier daintily, carrying a notebook and a wide-rimmed hat, which seemed as if it would drown his head when worn. He was the new harbourmaster no doubt, and he looked, to the crew, to be no older than seventeen. The boy had clearly underestimated the new arrivals; for as soon as vibrations of his first command had ceased to resound, his thin legs had begun to quiver.

"The… the b…Black Pearl!" he stuttered, wide-eyed and rooted to his spot.

A familiar twinge of compassion tugged at Elizabeth. She left Gibbs' side to walk towards the boy, in as friendly a manner as she could attempt.

"I believe the price of our docking remains a shilling? Or has this increased?" she asked politely. Jack watched her from the deck of the ship, enjoying the warmth from the new smile on his face.

"No no!" the boy immediately shook his head, mistaking Elizabeth's politeness for sarcastic irritation. His vocal pitch ascended rapidly, "it's free miss Swann! For you… for the Black Pearl, it's free!" Elizabeth was ready to object, but Barbossa stepped infront of her.

"Good lad," he grinned, smacking the boy none too gently on the back. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"You are new? Yet somehow, you know who I am?" she questioned the harbourmaster.

"Every.. everyone knows, miss Swann," he gasped, smiling excitedly, "once, only a Governor's daughter, from this very town, you're now the only woman to successfully crew the Black Pearl! You vanished from under the eyes of a privateer from the East India Trading company, you commandeered a ship without firing a single shot! You…"

"I think," Elizabeth interrupted him, embarrassed by the smiles and glances which the crew were exchanging between themselves, "that you may have your stories muddled. And perhaps, you could put your imagination to better use."

The boy looked disheartened. Elizabeth flicked a shilling at him, from the pouch on her belt, and began walking toward the town, urging Gibbs with her eyes, to follow her. The smile on Jack's face only widened, as he finally stepped off his ship. Upon viewing him, the harbourmaster experienced the final shock and excitement which the day would bring.

"Jack… Sparrow…" he eventually managed to whisper. His eyes grew so wide then, that Ragetti instantly moved to the boy with his hands cupped, hoping to steal one of the eyeballs which would no doubt pop out of the boy's head.

Jack winked at him.

"That's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, savvy?"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Third chapter now, it's coming along! The last two chapters were shorter than the first, and the reason is because I want to get back to JE stuff, and the rest, though boring, is necessary for the story, please review though! lemme know if ya like it or hate it or want me to work on some things... all crticism is welcome:-) and thanks to my reviewers so far! **_

"Alright you scallywags!" Jack called to his men, after the distraction that was Elizabeth had been escorted from his sight. His humour seemed to improve directly, though this did not occur without arousing a faint sense of suspicion from his crew. They faced their captain immediately however, and without question; eager to be given their long awaited order.

Barbossa of course, remained the lone pirate who did not react instantly to Jack's voice. Instead, he turned from observing the port, as slowly as he felt would irritate the captain. "Jack," he replied, strolling casually but resolutely toward the now shifty Sparrow, "don't make the mistake of assuming that _I'm_ still under your command."

Jack grinned innocently,

"Of course not," he waved his hand in dismissal, "I assume nothing but what you would have me believe."

Barbossa smirked, fully displaying his rotting teeth. He had stopped close enough to Jack to appear intimidating; though this, unfortunately for him, was done without avail. Jack turned sharply, knowingly allowing Barbossa the view of only his profile, while his eyes were focussed on his crew.

"To the Inn!" he shouted.

The men cheered and could wait no more for their captain.

Any citizen daring enough to stand observing the scene on the pier, from the confines of the town, would then have witnessed a spectacular sight. A scramble of limbs flailing in every which way; the crew members of the infamous Black Pearl, now venerable and excited in their mad rush; their desperate and shared yearning for a much missed drink.

If however, that same watcher had directed their eyes towards the highest hill within the town, upon which stood a grand home, the image which greeted them would have been far different.

A sigh was breathed, and a voice was finally heard, after the long, uncomfortable walk toward the Governor's mansion.

"Well," Elizabeth said, ultimately. Their destination had been reached.

Gibbs watched her curiously. His attempt to decide whether or not he should speak what lay on his mind became more urgent, now that time had become an issue. His inner turmoil seemed to have been evident from his facial expression, for Elizabeth's next action spoke to him more than her words. She stepped forward, and embraced him, briefly.

It was at this point, that Gibbs felt the very same feeling which had forced Jack to turn away from Elizabeth in pain, as she had lovingly run her hands along the Pearl.

Gibbs, however, read the young girl's emotions a touch less doubtingly, and far more accurately, than his troubled captain. The sentiment which Elizabeth fell short of was not only regret; this much was clear to him. The embrace she had now given was not her final goodbye, that, to him, became clear also. If Elizabeth had wished it inside herself to bid farewell to a home she held dear, Gibbs was now certain that the Pearl did not lay on the receiving end of this parting.

The young lady smiled at her escort, her friend, her first mate. The smile he returned her seemed to hold the answer to every question she had been asking herself, since Jack had handed her his compass on the Black Pearl, and allowed her to choose their destination.

All that was needed now, was for her to discover the mystery of that smile. This was a prospect which she found more difficult than necessary. She turned fully towards her old house. It loomed in front of her; familiar, yet equally very distant. Its appearance had not changed since she last remembered, though the feeling which it once brought her was now markedly different; her understanding of how to read it failed her. She took a small step toward the house. As soon as she had taken the stride, she faltered.

"Gibbs!" her voice wavered, when realising she couldn't hear his breath. Her head rapidly turned back to him, and the unexpected fear in her eyes blazed distinctly.

"I'm here, miss Swann!" he replied, unnerved by her sudden panic.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd…" she paused, at once feeling embarrassed, and took a subtle breath to recollect her composure.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine now," she repeated, far more evenly, yet no more believably. It seemed to the concerned pirate, as if her words were an attempt at a farewell, which had refused to extend any further. He finally reached his decision.

"Elizabeth," he spoke, searching for the distress in her eyes, offering plainly to replace it with a solace.

"Mr Gibbs," she smiled; though the expression was short-lived. Gibbs' final words seared through her; the truth behind his response fought in her thoughts with the confusion which went alongside it.

"When you're…finished…you'll find us at the Inn."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Okay, this chapter took a little longer than my others, sorry for the wait. This is going to be a sort of "explination" chapter, hopefully answering everyone's questions. Hope you like it, please review! And again, thanks very much to the reviewers so far, you make it worthwhile! **_

Elizabeth had crossed the threshold, and was now inside the governor's mansion. No servant had waited by the door to open it for her; and none was present behind it. She shivered, even though no wind had blown; anxiety tearing through her at the sheer volume of change.

The gallery hallway, she was relieved to find, smelt just as she remembered, though she had not visited it for many months. The pictures hanging on the walls were the same, although a little dusty, and the carpet, covered in that same layer of age, was otherwise as pristine as always.

Consumed by her nostalgia, Elizabeth didn't notice that a young maid had walked through the parlour doors, stopping abruptly on sight of the late governor's daughter.

"Miss Elizabeth.." she whispered, disbelievingly. Elizabeth spun around to face the owner of the voice.

"Mary!" she cried, unable to contain her delight at seeing a recognizable face. She ran to the maid, and embraced her tightly. Forgetting to express her shock at the impropriety, the maid addressed as Mary eagerly returned the greeting.

"Oh miss Elizabeth…" the young woman wept as the embrace was broken, "Oh Miss we were so sad to hear the news…" she could not finish her sentence, though she did not need to.

"Mary," Elizabeth attempted a smile, and wiped the tears from her eyes, "will you take me to his…will you take me to where my father was..." her voice cracked and she paused, choking on her words. Fortunately, the understanding between the two women was clear.

"Right this way Miss."

Elizabeth followed the maid silently, expecting to be lead outside the mansion, but instead, she was shown through the house. They passed rooms with doors wide open, displaying furnishings which were waiting only to gather dust as time moved forward. The chairs had not been sat on for months, the beds had not been slept on, and the further into the mansion Elizabeth saw, the floors even seemed as though they had not been walked on. Flowers on various tables were wilting; they had not been cut or removed. The house had remained in the highest grandeur, but aside from Mary, there appeared not to be a soul present to enjoy it.

"Mary," Elizabeth called, halting, and the maid turned to face her, "what happened here?"

The maid's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry Miss, I thought you knew…"

"What happened to Port Royal?" she interrupted, unable to bear the maid's apology, when all she felt was shame at the abandonment of her home. With her understanding of the emotion which now encased her, the confusion she had previously felt, disappeared.

"The East India Trading Company 'ave lost control of the town," Mary explained.

Elizabeth took a sharp intake of breath.

"I would not have risked returning if I didn't know that already. I want to know more,"

"I don't know how t' put it Miss," Mary replied, "After the passing o' your father, an' when news o' Lord Cutler Beckett's death got t' us, everythin' changed so suddenly, nobody even got the chance t' prepare for it. The rich, they all managed to take their things an' leave Port Royal, before it was too late for 'em, but everyone else…" the maid paused, "well, _we're_ still here, an' that isn't goin' t' change."

Elizabeth sighed, and placed her hands to her head. An accidental memory came to her mind; the boy at the dock had known that she had sailed with the Black Pearl; among other stories of her travelling. She desperately tried to form a question, whose answer would satisfy her curiosity, but this attempt failed. Instead she asked something which had been in her thoughts since viewing the town from the deck of the Pearl.

"Who governs Port Royal now?"

Mary's expression transformed into a secret but unmistakable beam.

"_Pirates_, miss Elizabeth," she whispered, as if anyone might hear, "Pirates of the Caribbean, an' gosh did they 'ave stories t' tell."

Elizabeth almost gaped in shock.

"Pirates?" she asked.

"Yes Miss, they came from a port called Tortuga, they said, an' they took the town."

"Pirates?" Elizabeth repeated sceptically, raising her eyebrow. She pondered for a moment on the thought, and began to entertain the possibility that it was true. However, many more questions lingered on her mind.

"If pirates now run Port Royal, then… why are there not more ruins?

"Ruins?" the maid smiled, "there was no need t' ruin such a nice place, they said, since nobody fought against 'em for this town."

At this point Elizabeth let out a laugh, though this quickly subsided when no humour was shown on Mary's face.

"You mean to tell me that the people of Port Royal are happily living under the command of pirates?"

"Well I can't be sure if they're all 'appy miss Elizabeth, but they 'aven't been complainin', that much is for certain."

Elizabeth took a few minutes to allow the information to settle. What Mary had told her would certainly explain why the Pearl was so freely permitted to dock at the port; she _had_ feared she may need to persuade the harbourmaster to allow this instance.

"The mansion," Elizabeth spoke suddenly, realising the missing link, which was causing her confusion, "they haven't raided the mansion."

To this, Mary smiled knowingly.

"The pirates spoke of you, Miss," she blushed, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes, "They knew of you, an' said they were goin' t' leave this mansion be, to protect the grave of your father."

This sentence jolted Elizabeth; she remembered her reason for visiting the mansion, and immediately all other feelings were buried, allowing her priority to surface again.

"His grave?" she demanded.

"It's in the garden, I'll take you now."

* * *

The Inn at Port Royal had never seen as much business as had befallen it during the last month. Some speculated that the sudden surge in commerce was due to new management; though these roomers were only partly correct. Since the East India Trading company had become bankrupt, each of the Ports previously under its control fell open to new administration. The business merchants and government officials from England had sailed to various harbours across the new world, greedily snatching whichever land they could claim. 

There was one location, however, inside which no sailor dared to stray. The one site which remained, as of yet, a wild paradise, a rum drinker's home, a freedom lover's escape... The Spanish Main. Once with only Tortuga as its free Port, the islands were now filled with harbour towns free for the taking. The job of taking it, could of course, only lay to those with experience of claiming what is not rightfully theirs.

Jack Sparrow and his crew stood outside the Inn, each with their attention temporarily fixed onto its recent refurbishments.

Above the door, a plaque was hung, which read: "Welcome to the Caribbean."

Below it, another smaller board, on which was written: "Take what you can, give nothing back."

Gibbs, who had recently arrived, panting heavily at Jack's side, nudged his captain, lowering his eyebrows, and widening his smile.

"_Pirates_."

The crew burst through the wooden doors, unable any longer to resist the tempting smell of ale and rum which had seeped through them. Jack meanwhile, lingered outside for a few lone moments, glancing at the new name carved into the building's wall. He allowed the unfamiliar feeling which jerked through his body to subside - slightly - before gladly joining his men.

"Welcome lads," shouted the barmaid, beaming as she saw the torrent of clients pouring through her doors, "to the Sparrow's Nest."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Here's chapter 5, hope you like it. Reviews welcome! _**

* * *

"And what's _your_ name, lass?" Jack drawled to a tall blonde, whose face was painted so heavily that it cracked when she smiled, as she stumbled near him.

The crew had been enjoying the services of the Inn for a good many hours, and the night had drawn close so quickly that neither pirate had noticed the change.

"They call me Talulla, sir, pleased to make your acquaintance," the blonde woman grinned showing all her teeth, and held her hand out to Jack. The content of what she'd said would have befitted a lady of the highest decorum, however, the tone with which she spoke suggested pure mockery. It was this, which made her so irresistible to Jack in his current state.

She was not an unattractive woman, but definitely lacked the fresh beauty which the crew had come to be familiar with over the past few months. She certainly wasn't Elizabeth, but to Jack, this would more than do.

"Take a seat, milady," he motioned, after kissing her soft white hand. He matched her sardonic tone. As she took a step to the nearest chair, Jack instantly stood, and pulled it out for her, bowing exaggeratedly low to the ground. She laughed loudly.

"Thank you greatly, kind sir, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow love," he winked, moving his head close to hers, "at your service."

The crew were aware of what he was doing, though only a select few were made uncomfortable by the knowledge. It bore no coincidence that these few were the pirates who had become closest to Elizabeth during the last few years. Neither man would utter an objection however, each realised it was best to let their captain be.

The night wore on, and the pirates became more drunk as each hour passed; clients came and went, but the crew remained. It wasn't until the clock struck nine, that the event occurred which Gibbs had been praying for.

Elizabeth threw herself into the Sparrow's Nest, controlled by the growing fear that crew of the Black Pearl had already left the town. Though her entrance was violent, only two heads were lifted at the sound of the Inn's doors bursting open; the barmaid's and Gibbs'. The first, quickly lowered her gaze again, uninterested by the service a lone woman could want. The second, remained with his eyes fixed on her, he had been counting the hours until her arrival.

Elizabeth saw that he was sitting at a table with the crew, and a grinning blonde woman on Jack's arm, singing louder than anyone else within the vicinity; it would have been impossible for her to overlook them.

"Jack…" she uttered to herself when she spotted him, so quietly that not even she could be certain that she'd spoken aloud. After the word escaped her lips, Jack lifted his head suddenly, as if he had heard; as if his ears were tuned to the sound of her voice. His eyes met with her image, and his heart lurched, even though he had been training it otherwise. One glance was all that he allowed himself, before his attention returned to the woman by his side.

Elizabeth, unsure of what to do, remained motionless. She noticed where Jack's hidden arm was extending, and immediately a deep aching washed over her. So used to possessing Jack's undivided attention, she was now witnessing the flirtations of the captain from an outsider's point of view.

She didn't like it.

Gibbs eventually came to her rescue.

"Miss Elizabeth," he smiled, as he left the company of Jack and the crew with pleasure. He was followed only by the eyes of Cotton and his parrot; no other pirate bothered to remove their interest from the rum. Elizabeth felt the rough but comfortable hand on her shoulder. "Welcome back."

A gracious nod.

"Thank you," she replied, then hushed her voice, intending only for Gibbs to hear, "for… giving me time," the old man squeezed his hand consolingly, "and for understanding," she added.

"Have you done everything you needed to do?"

Elizabeth nodded again.

"I've made my peace," she glanced around at the happy faces inside the Inn, then smirked, "and I think I'll be leaving Port Royal in good hands."

By now various members of the crew had noticed the young lady's arrival, and had begun to spare thought as to what her intentions could be; their eager stares bounced between Elizabeth and the captain.

Jack, however, seemed undisturbed; laughing and drinking, with his arm caressing the blonde woman's waist. It looked as though he were completely oblivious to Elizabeth's presence at the Inn. If it weren't for the stare he had given her when she'd spoken his name, she would have assumed he had not yet seen her.

While watching closely, Gibbs quickly realised the meaning behind Elizabeth's furtive glimpses.

"He knew you would come," spoke the old man, carefully. Elizabeth turned away from Jack, and raised her eyebrows.

"Beg your pardon?"

Gibbs gestured towards the now intoxicated pirate, knowing perfectly well that the lady understood what he had said.

"He gave us orders to wait at this Inn long before the anchor was dropped."

"He…" she paused, pensively. After moments of thought, she came to a conclusion.

"Jack likes his rum, Mr Gibbs," a smile unexpectedly appeared on her face. It lingered until a laugh was heard from the intruding blonde, "…among other things," Elizabeth added bitterly.

"Miss…" the old pirate began.

"And he'll always be found surrounded by it, you know that," the lady persisted, "he can't have thought that I'd return; the reason for your order must lay with his yearning for drink."

"You may still have yer hands on Jack's compass," Gibbs gladly argued, "but he doesn't need a clever piece o' wood to tell him you're nearby."

This startled Elizabeth. She opened her mouth to ask what he had meant, but his back was turned, and he was already walking to the crew. He stopped when he had reached the table, and turned to face the confused lady.

"Aren't you going to join us, miss Elizabeth?" he called to her.

At once, each man surrounding Jack ceased drinking, and focused their attention on the unrepentant faces of the captain and the lady. Elizabeth walked awkwardly to the crew, and pulled a stray chair to their table. The sudden silence cut through the air so loudly that not one pirate could resist shuffling in their chairs, simply to create noise. Each searched for something to say, but none could think of anything at all appropriate.

"Er…barmaid!" Jack called, loudly, after he could not longer bear the quiet, "will you kindly fetch this lovely lass a drink?"

Elizabeth looked at him, a faint smile of gratitude colouring her face.

"Thank you Jack, but I don't want one," she declined. Jack grinned wickedly, revelling in the fact that she had fallen for his trap.

"I didn't mean you," he sneered, then pointed to Talulla, "I was referring to _her_."

Elizabeth recoiled, visibly. The crew hoped he would stop there, but their prayers went unanswered; Jack pulled the blonde woman close to him, bringing his arms around her waist, so that she sat in his lap. Elizabeth stiffened her jaw, and glared.

"Sorry lads," Talulla spoke when realising she was being used, "you'll have to excuse me, I'm afraid it's past my bed time."

Removing Jack's arms, she stood and waited only to seize the drink which the barmaid brought to her. Jack took no notice of her, predictably, and remained firmly seated, intensely returning Elizabeth's stare.

"Well, I think I'd best be getting myself a bit of air," Gibbs stated fervently, as soon as Talulla had made her exit. One by one, each of the crew joined him, impatient to leave the painful atmosphere. Elizabeth and Jack were alone, safe from the barmaid and a few solitary customers on the far side of the Inn. Jack eventually stood.

"Jack, where are going?"

"That need not concern you any more, miss Swann," he turned away from her, and started walking toward the doors.

"Jack!" she called after him, in anger rather than alarm. He did not stop. She followed him outside the Inn and stepped in front of him, blocking his way. He staggered, drunkenly.

"What is it that you want?" he demanded.

"I want you to listen to me for a start," she snapped. He looked into her eyes, showing that she had his attention.

"Well?"

She paused, not certain of what to say. He stared at her expectantly, raising his eyebrows. She scowled.

"What do you want me to say Jack? Isn't it obvious what I want?"

"Apparently not," he replied, side-stepping away from her.

"Why won't you listen to me?" she stood in front of him once more. He moved again, but she was the faster.

"Jack!" she shouted, slapping him hard on the cheek. This sobered him up immediately. He put his hand to the smarting skin, cursing loudly, thankful that not a soul appeared to be present, watching.

"I'm sorry…" she quickly apologised, "I didn't mean…"

"Thank you, miss Swann," he interjected. She flinched, and forced him to look at her.

"Just listen to me Jack," she pleaded, "and it's not miss Swann to you, so stop addressing me that way!"

Jack raised his palms to her in surrender. It seemed as if he was considering walking away for the last time, but he decided against the action. Eventually, much needed words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

"After everything we've been through, _Elizabeth_, why did your heart bring us here? I thought you wanted…" he shut his mouth tightly; the question had finally been asked; and he managed to prevent himself revealing anything more.

Elizabeth was taken aback by this; from all the things she had expected him to say, this lay last on the list.

"How can you be so simple Jack?" she retorted, "I lost my father and my only friend, the one man I _knew_ I could trust," Jack looked as if about to interrupt, but she would not allow it, "I felt alone, I thought Port Royal the only place I really knew. I thought it the only place I felt safe."

"And now?" his features momentarily hardened.

"Now everything's changed. Nothing is familiar here…" she sighed, "but the Pearl."

"It's not where you are love, it's the company you're with," Jack smirked at her, though she ignored his comment. Her anger didn't die for a second.

"Don't you see what you've done? You've taken everything I thought I knew, and you cast it to the waves," Jack removed his smile, "I can't come back here and live as I once did. I've been part of the ocean now, I've been part of the Pearl, I've been Jack Sparrow, and I hate you for it!" she spat.

The effect her speech had on Jack was immediate; he instinctively stood taller, taking a large step towards her, closing the space between them. He raised his voice to match hers.

"I see, miss Swann, so what you are in fact so frantically attempting to articulate at this moment is that you want me, but you don't want to want me, is that it?" Elizabeth glared at him, something inside of her snapped; something which only ever responded to Jack. She replied very decidedly, although not altogether honestly.

"No Jack, I don't _want _you, I don't want any of it!"

"You know," he grinned, "lying is a very bad habit Lizzie my dear, you should try embracing the truth every once in a while, might make you feel better."

She shook her head,

"I don't want to leave here, and I didn't want to leave Will…" she stopped at Jack's reaction to the name. Assuming his expression to be due to the memory of her previous fiancée was her first mistake. The fire brewing in Jack's eyes had in fact been sparked by Elizabeth's behaviour since docking at Port Royal. Her constant denial of all that Jack knew he signified to her had been the main cause of his resentment. Yet, she had repeatedly failed to notice the danger.

"But I have no choice," Elizabeth finished.

Jack looked at her, curiously.

"Oh? And why's that?"

She stared directly into his eyes.

"Because I belong to the sea now, as do your crew, and as do you, and nothing else will be good enough."

Jack's smile returned.

"So, if I understand you correctly… you've come back here to be part of my crew?"

"If…that's what it takes to sail on the Pearl."

"But you don't actually _want _to be on my ship?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

"If that's what you understood, then why are you asking?" she replied.

"Yet you expect me," he continued, sauntering towards her, "to hire you anyway?"

The lady grimaced.

"Well forgive me Lizzie if I seem unfair," Jack relished his words, and moved close to her before whispering, "but I'm going to decline your request."

He spun around and quickly began stumbling away from her.

Disbelief and fury fought for priority inside Elizabeth, and before she realised what she was doing, she had removed the cutlass from around her belt.

Jack froze when he heard the familiar hiss of steel against leather, though not once had the sound filled him with more terror than it did now. The terror at that moment was not for himself, but for the safety of the woman standing armed behind him.

Elizabeth did not need to see his face to know what expression had come across it. She regretted the manoeuvre instantly; yearning to return the cutlass, but her rigid body would not allow her mind control. Jack swivelled around to face her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. His eyes glazed with a frosty calmness, blocking out his desire; rationality holding on by a medium as fragile as ice.

"Do you really believe that I'd allow you to leave me here?" Elizabeth asked, forcing emotion from her voice; her manner as strong at that moment as her soul was weak. Jack remained still. He pleaded; with his eyes he begged her to step away.

"Do you want me to _fight_ for my place on the pearl?" she taunted.

"Darling," Jack spoke sternly, "I suggest you put that away, if you know what's good for you."

To this, Elizabeth smiled, and brought the cutlass to point at his torso. There was her reply, and with the action, all trace of fear abandoned her, taking reason with it. Jack saw then the passion in her eyes. He took a step forward.

"You don't want to fight me Elizabeth," he walked until the point of her cutlass pressed into his skin. They stood this way for a silent minute. He warned her with his gaze, yet with hers, she refused to yield. An alien urge took over her body, and she wrenched the cutlass to her left, slicing Jack's skin, drawing his blood.

He kept his eyes focused on hers; a smile creeping onto his face. He put a finger to the blood on his chest. The cut was shallow; but she had wounded him deeper. The fingers of his right hand twitched, and he could deny his desire no longer.

"Very well," he withdrew his cutlass, "then you leave me no choice."


End file.
